


Unneeded Medicines

by LiteralistSin



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, but I hope it turned out well, it wasn't intended to go exactly like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteralistSin/pseuds/LiteralistSin
Summary: Ada Vessalius didn't want to resort to any underhanded tricks to make the dream of her heart come true, but everybody gives in sometime. This is what happens when she does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alisa_ce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisa_ce/gifts).



> Happy birthday Angelisa! I remembered you like VinceAda, so here's a little something for you~

She gulped nervously as she fingered the small vial containing a sparkly, soft pinkish liquid.

He would know. He would know as soon as he saw it, even to her it was as obvious as could be.

But it wouldn’t hurt to try. And maybe, just _maybe,_ with how kind Vincent-sama was, he would consent to drink it anyway.

It wasn’t as though just drinking it would guarantee her success – there were cases in which it depended on the person, and then there were cases where the hatred was too strong on one side, making the potion fail.

Ada wasn’t blind. She knew Vincent-sama did not love her like she loved him, not even a fraction of it, but she hoped it would certainly not be _that_ reason for her to fail. It couldn’t be that he loathed her with a passion greater than her own love. And anyway, if he did hate her so much, why would he consent to spend any amount of time with her, and be as sweet as he was?

Thus consoling herself, she refused to believe that he could detest her so much that all her efforts would go in vain. Granted, it was her first time making a _love_ potion, but she had enough confidence in her witchcraft that it would be a success.

Gathering courage and setting her jaw in determination, she crept out the door, hiding the vial in the folds of her pocket. Now to meet Vincent-sama at their usual place…

 

* * *

 

 

He came up to her after she had spent a few minutes waiting, that careful smile plastered on his face, that easy grace with which he held himself wrapping her in its enchantment. She smiled back as they greeted each other.

“Did you wait long?”

“Not very.”

That was all, and she got up from the bench she had previously been sitting on, and they began walking around the garden, slowly, at peace. At least outwardly.  

Nervousness was eating her out from the inside. _How exactly would she give it to him?_ She had run over various scenarios in her mind before, but none of them felt appropriate right now, when neither of them were really speaking.

“Th-the birds over there are quite charming, aren’t they?” She said abruptly, trying to lighten the mood and perhaps try to get an opportunity to set her plan in motion. She still had no clue how.

He seemed surprised at her sudden outburst, but it only lasted about a second before he collected himself. “Yes, they are indeed.”

And they were silent again. She was getting more flustered by the moment, and desperately looked around for either a topic to converse on or a chance to give him the liquid lying in the depths of her pocket. She found neither, and before long they had made a full round and were back at the place they had started walking from.

She was about to give up when she chanced upon a small, wild rosebush – obviously not intended to be planted here but left alone because it was so pretty.

Maybe that was her chance.

“Vincent-sama,”– she began, voice nervous at first, then gradually gaining in confidence; it wasn’t that odd for a lady in that age to ask something like this, after all – “Would you be so kind as to get me a rose from the bush over there? It’s just that they look so very delightful, and I would love to wear one in my hair, especially since,” she faltered a bit, and color rose to her cheeks, “Especially since it will remind me of the time you removed a petal from my hair.”

Everything she did, everything she said, for some reason, kept sounding extremely suspicious to her own ears. It may have been because she herself knew of her (not-so innocent) intentions and her conscience was constantly pricking her.

She went ahead with it anyway, and waited for Vincent to reply. For now he was still contemplating the rosebush, as if it were some enemy to be defeated in war.

“Why not,” he said at length, turning and smiling at her, “Which one would you prefer?”

She took care to choose the farthest one, a small light one nestled in the safety of thorns.

“That one, in the corner behind the leaf, please?”

Vincent looked at the flower, narrowing her eyes just a tiny bit. If it was someone other than her, they wouldn’t have noticed – but it wasn’t. It was Ada, and she noticed. It also made her feel rather guilty inside, knowing that he was analyzing the thorns as he was almost sure to cut himself.

He was too nice.

“Surely,” he said, stepping forward and stretching his hand out to grab the flower. He didn’t flinch when he slid his hand in, cutting his index finger on a thorn, and his thumb resting on one as he plucked the flower.

He turned back and smiled once more, tiny droplets of blood gathering on the surface of his skin. It was heart-wrenching for Ada, and she winced in his stead when he held out the flower to her.

“There you go. It is not nearly as pretty as you, but that’s all I can manage at the moment.”

_He was too nice._

She made to take the rose, forcing something she thought resembled a grateful smile. He released his grip, and she let the rose drop to the ground as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Oh no, Vincent-sama,” she said, hurrying towards him, guilt eating on her inside but clear of her motive. “It seems like a deep cut! You’re bleeding quite a bit!”

She didn’t see the expression that entered his eyes as she fumbled for her handkerchief to wrap his hand in, or when she fussed over him and he kept assuring her it was nothing at all.

“How can I leave it alone, thinking it’s nothing?” She finally told him, looking up at his face, into his eyes, fed up with his reassurances. “What if you develop an infection? What then?”

“Well, that will be that, and you can make it all better any time of the day. You usually have the cure for anything, after all.” He replied, breezily, noticing her get a tiny bit embarrassed at his sugary words.

But she got over her awkwardness soon enough. “Oh, that’s right!” she said, making an effort to sound forgetful and triumphant at the same time. “I actually _do_ have something with me right now, and it will help ease your pain.”

Aware of his eyes watching her every moment, she hurriedly took the small vial out of her pocket, digging for some kind of explanation for its presence. She found none, and mutely handed it over to him, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, her face flushed still.

“Do I… drink it?” He said, after a moment of watching the sparkling pink thing inside.

“Ah yes – yes you do.”

And before she even had time to mentally prepare herself for the possible reactions of this _love_ potion she had managed to get him to drink, he downed the enter vial in one smooth motion.

A small gasp escaped her mouth when he looked at her and blinked.

She decided to risk it.

“Did – did it wor – I mean, do you _feel_ any different?”

He closed his eyes and hummed, and in the few seconds he took to open them again she felt her heart beat wildly against her ribcage, and several times was sure it would break it and burst out of her chest.

He smirked and she knew it had either failed very badly or gone very well. But when he spoke, all her doubts were cleared.

“Unfortunately, it didn’t _work_.”

She blinked again, then the realization that he had known all along like she thought he might made her go red to the roots of her hair, and she looked at her feet in shame, wishing the earth would split open and swallow her right then and there. It was _so_ mortifying, her eyes stung with the promise of tears about to come.

She didn’t expect him to lean close to her face, and her breath hitched in her throat when he stopped and slowly tilted his head sideways –

Dropping a chaste kiss at the corner of her lips, the feel of his lips so soft it was almost not there, so light it was like the touch of a butterfly – short, sweet, and fleeting.

She felt she didn’t have enough lifetimes to savor that feeling when he pulled back and stood up straight again, smiling as always.

“Yes, it didn’t work, but I already feel better.”


End file.
